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| Instead of wine, women and song I choose this wonderful 1968 Fisher-Price Time Minder |
FROM POLITICAL ACTIVIST, HISTORIAN, MUSIC CRITIC TO TOY LOVER ALL WITHIN AN HOUR OR LESS
I NEVER HAD FISHER-PRICE TOYS AS A YOUNGSTER, AND ONLY A FEW WE'D PURCHASED SECOND HAND FOR OUR BOYS
COULDN'T HELP BUT NOTICE A FEW POLITICAL SCRUMS HAPPENING AROUND TOWN TODAY, IN THE FIRST LEAD-UP WEEK TO THE OCTOBER MUNICIPAL ELECTION. YOU KNOW, THOSE SHADOWY, SEMI-COVERT MEETINGS, PICKING APART THE CAMPAIGNS OF OTHERS. FORMING ALLIANCES. THINKING INSIDE THE BOX AND OUTSIDE, WHERE WEATHER PERMITS. THE EXCHANGE OF IDEAS, AND THOSE "WHAT IFS!" SHARING PROGNOSTICATIONS, LIKE OLD GRUMPY GROUNDHOGS, NOT QUITE AWAKE, BUT KNOWING THEY SOON HAVE TO SEE THEIR SHADOW OR NOT. GETTING ON WITH THE BUSINESS OF NOTCHING SOME RECOGNITION AROUND HERE. YUP, THE DOORWAYS OF GRAVENNURST ARE GOING TO BE BUSY, AS CANDIDATES FOR TOWN COUNCIL, TRY TO GUAGE THE MOOD OF CONSTITUENTS, PASSERSBY, AND BUSINESS OWNERS, AND THEIR CAPABILITY, PERSON TO PERSON, OF WINNING THE FALL VOTE. WE'VE ONLY HAD ONE CANDIDATE VISIT US AT THE SHOP, THUS FAR, AND WE WERE IMPRESSED BY HIS STRAIGHTFORWARD, BUSINESS-LIKE PRESENTATION, AND CONFIDENCE, FOR HIS YOUNG AGE. WE ENJOYED OUR BRIEF CHAT WITH HIM, BUT SAID WE WOULDN'T BE POSTING HIS ELECTION SIGN, OUT OF FAIRNESS TO ALL THE CANDIDATES, AND ESPECIALLY OUR CUSTOMERS, WHO WE THINK SHOULD BE GREETED BY FRIEND, NEUTRAL VENDORS. AT HOME, THIS IS DIFFERENT. EVEN THEN, WE DON'T LIKE SIGNS ON OUR LAWN. WE MAY NOT BE POLITICALLY GENTLE IN OUR DEMEANOR, BUT AT THE SHOP, WE KEEP THE PAINT INSIDE THE LINES, BECAUSE IT'S A SMALL TOWN, AND WE DON'T LIKE WHEN POLITICS RULES THE ROOST. ACTUALLY, IT'S ONE OF MY BIGGEST GRIEVANCES WITH OUT LITTLE TOWN, THAT IT IS OVERLY POLITICAL, IN TOO MANY AREAS. SO BANNING ELECTION SIGNS FROM OUR BUSINESS, IS ACTUALLY AN OLD POLICY BROUGHT OUT OF THE STORAGE TRUNK, FOR ANOTHER GO AROUND. IT DOESN'T MEAN CANDIDATES SHOULDN'T VISIT. JUST NOT WITH ELECTION SIGNS AND TAPE.
THE STUDIO WAS IN USE THIS AFTERNOON, SO I DECIDED TO COME HOME AND WORK ON THE VERANDAH AT BIRCH HOLLOW. I LOVE LOOKING OUT ON A RAINY DAY, AND IN FACT, EVEN TAKING A WEE WALK IN THE WOODS WITH MY OLD FRIEND BOSKO; A PET VERY MUCH DISLIKING THE CALL OF THE WILD, ESPECIALLY RAIN. SO SHE BROUGHT ME HOME PRETTY QUICK, AFTER SNIFFING AND SETTLING HER BUSINESS AFFAIRS. SHE'S MAKING ME FEEL GUILTY, SITTING HERE SHIVERING, AS IF I'M GOING TO SLAP MY KNEE FOR HER TO JUMP IN MY LAP. IT ISN'T GOING TO HAPPEN. I HATE THE AROMA OF WET FUR. SHE'S ALSO FLATULENT. SHE KIND OF CURLS HER TOP LIP FIRST, AND IF I DIDN'T KNOW ANY BETTER, I'D SWEAR SHE WAS SMILING AT MY DISCOMFORT. SHE'S GOOD COMPANY ANYWAY. SHE DOESN'T COMMENT ON MY WONKY HIP, OR MY ANNOYING RACKET POUNDING AT THIS KEYBOARD, SO I SHOULDN'T MAKE FUN OF HER WIND REDUCTION. I JUST HAVE TO APOLOGIZE TO VISITORS, FOR THE FOUL ODOUR, WHO MAY HAVE THOUGHT IT WAS ME.
OVER THE PAST TWO AND A HALF MONTHS, WE'VE MOST OFTEN SEEN BIRCH HOLLOW AT SUNRISE, AND THEN CLOSE TO SUNSET. OUR FAMILY BUSINESSES HAVE BEEN BUSY, WHICH IS GREAT, BUT WE'VE BEEN FINDING A LOT LESS TIME TO HANG-OUT AS THEY SAY, ON THIS NICE VERANDAH, LOOKING DOWN UPON THE MOOR, WE KNOW AROUND HERE, AS "THE BOG." IT'S GREAT SITTING HERE NOW, LISTENING TO THE RAIN FALLING ON THE MAPLE AND BIRCH LEAVES, STILL FULL AND GREEN SO FAR THIS SEPTEMBER. I'M A LITTLE HAPPIER THAN PREVIOUS, WITH ALL THIS RAINY WEATHER OVER THE PAST FEW WEEKS, BECAUSE WE JUST GOT A BRAND NEW ROOF. WE STRETCHED OUR OLD SHINGLES TEN YEARS PAST THEIR BEST BEFORE DATE, AND OUR ROOF WAS LOOKING MORE LIKE A THATCHED ENGLISH COTTAGE, THAN A MUSKOKA BUNGALOW. WE HAD LOTS OF MOSS. WE HAD A STRANGE, MOTTLED GREEN, BROWN AND BLACK ROOF. THE BROWN REPRESENTED THE PINE NEEDLES FROM MY NEIGHBOR'S TWO TOWERING TREES, LEANING OVER US, AT THE BACK OF THE HOUSE. MAKES ME NERVOUS ON STORMY NIGHTS.YOU KNOW IT'S TIME TO FIX THE ROOF, WHEN THE NEIGHBORS RUN TOURS FOR THEIR GUESTS, AND POINT AT OUR ROOF AS A "BELIEVE IT OR NOT," LANDMARK. WE NEVER HAD A LEAK INTO THE HOUSE, THANK GOD. WATER AND OLD BOOKS MAKE PULP. I COULD HAVE LOST A LOT OF MONEY, IF THIS HAD EVER BEEN THE CASE. NOW, I DON'T CARE IF IT RAINS EVERY DAY. WE'RE, AS THEY SAY, "SNUG AS A BUG IN A RUG."
THERE MUST BE A HUNDRED BIRDS OUT HERE THIS AFTERNOON, FLITTING FROM BOUGH TO BOUGH, OCCASIONALLY LANDING ON THE RIM OF THE FEEDER, WHICH WAS ONCE A METAL OUTDOOR SHADE FOR A LAMPLIGHT. AT TIMES, I THINK THEY'RE TALKING TO ME, THROUGH THEIR LITTLE SING-SONG, OR MAKING FUN OF ME, FOR SITTING WITH THIS SHAKING OLD HOUND. I DON'T KNOW, BUT IT'S PRETTY REMARKABLE, TO HAVE THE TIME TO SIT FOR AWHILE, AT BIRCH HOLLOW, INSTEAD OF BEING ON THE RUN. WE WORK SEVEN DAYS A WEEK IN THE ANTIQUE TRADE. SIX AT THE SHOP, AND ONE TRAVELING TO SALE VENUES IN SOUTHERN ONTARIO. WE LOVE OUR BUSINESS, WHICH MAKES IT A LOT BETTER THAN IF WE HATED THE EXERCISE, BUT IT DOES SEEM SOMEWHAT OF A DISADVANTAGE, TO MISS AMAZING MOMENTS LIKE THIS, WHEN THE NEIGHBORHOOD IS QUIET, EXCEPT FOR THE SOFT, SOOTHING SOUND OF THIS RAINFALL ON THE WOODLAND THAT SURROUNDS US. AND, YES, THE OCCASIONAL TOOTS FROM MY FRIEND.
I AM FULL OF CONFESSIONAL THESE DAYS, AND IT DOESN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH MY RELIGION. THIS MORNING, I HAVE BEEN PLAYING WITH A TOY I JUST PURCHASED. WELL, WHAT ELSE DO YOU DO WITH A TOY? I KNOW A LOT OF COLLECTORS WHO INSIST ON KEEPING THEM IN THE ORIGINAL BOXES, AND IN PRISTINE CONDITION. NUTS TO THAT!
I FOUND A REALLY NEAT 1968 CIRCA "FISHER-PRICE MUSICAL BOX TEACHING CLOCK," AT A LOCAL SECOND HAND SHOP, AND AFTER FIDDLING WITH IT FOR ONLY A FEW MOMENTS, REALIZED IT WAS COMING HOME WITH ME, AS PART OF MY COMMITMENT TO WRAP UP MY MORTAL COIL, JUST AS I BEGAN THIS LIFE ADVENTURE. ENJOYING MY TOYS. REALLY. THIS IS A REALLY NEAT MUSIC BOX THAT CAN ALSO HELP ME TELL TIME, IN CASE I NEED IT IN THE FUTURE. I'VE HAD IT RUNNING NOW FOR ABOUT AN HOUR, AND I'M MESMERIZED BY THE MUSIC, AND THE IMAGES OF SUN AND MOON, AND ALL THE OTHER CHILDREN'S IMAGES "IN PLAY" VISIBLE THROUGH THE SPINNING DIAL, REVEALED WITH A TICK-TOCK, AS THE MUSIC COUNTS DOWN WITH A NICE, AUDIBLE GOOD-CHEER. I THINK I WOULD HAVE LIKED THIS AS A KID, BECAUSE, IF MEMORY SERVES, IT WAS ABOUT GRADE NINE BEFORE I PAID ANY ATTENTION TO THE CLOCK. WHICH EXPLAINS WHY I WAS CONTINUALLY SENT TO THE OFFICE, AT HIGH SCHOOL FOR BEING LATE.
MY PARENTS WERE NOT PARTICULARLY WELL-OFF FINANCIALLY, ALTHOUGH THIS DID IMPROVE ONCE I STOPPED, AS MY MOTHER USED TO SAY, "EATING US OUT OF HOUSE AND HOME." I NEVER HAD A FISHER-PRICE TOY, AND WE ONLY HAD SEVERAL FOR ANDREW AND ROBERT, THAT WERE PURCHASED FOR THEM BY FAMILY MEMBERS. THESE WERE GOOD, SOLID, HIGH PERFORMING, DURABLE TOYS, AND THEY COST MORE THAN MY PARENTS WERE PREPARED TO SPEND. AS YOUNG PARENTS, WE DIDN'T HAVE A LOT OF MONEY TO SPEND ON TOYS, MOST OF THE INCOME BEING USED FOR FOOD, SHELTER AND ACCESSORIES. THEN THERE WERE THE HOUSE AND CAR REPAIRS, WHICH SEEMED TO SIPHON ANY EXTRA MONEY WE MIGHT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO BANK, OR SPEND ON A FEW EXTRA TOYS. AS WE HAVE BEEN GOING TO THRIFT AND CHARITY SHOPS FOR A QUARTER CENTURY NOW, WE WOULD PURCHASE THE OCCASIONAL REBOUND FISHER-PRICE TOY, AND BECAUSE THEY WERE SO DURABLE TO KID-PLAY, MANY SURVIVED IN GOOD CONDITION, FOR SECOND, THIRD AND FOURTH TIMES AROUND. MY MOTHER DETESTED THAT WE WOULD LET OUR KIDS PLAY WITH "USED" TOYS. TOUGH! WE DID WHAT WORKED FOR US AND THE BOYS! THE ONE I HAVE TODAY PROBABLY SAW A LOT OF ACTION, BUT IT'S IN GREAT SHAPE. SOME MINOR WEAR OF THE SURFACE AND SCRATCHES ON THE PLASTIC CLOCK COVERING, BUT REALLY, PRETTY SMALL STUFF WHEN YOU CONSIDER IT CAME FROM THE LATE 1960'S. IT WAS MADE IN EAST AURORA, NEW YORK.
MY PARENTS WERE MINIMALISTS. THEY DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING MORE IN THEIR APARTMENT THAN THEY ABSOLUTELY REQUIRED. THEY FELT THAT I COULD GET ALONG WITH A FEW NICE PIECES AS WELL, AND ALTHOUGH I DON'T BELIEVE IT STUNTED MY CHILDHOOD, IT DID MAKE ME SEEM LIKE THE NEIGHBORHOOD MOOCHER, BEGGING MY MATES TO LET ME PLAY WITH THEIR CACHE OF PLAY-ITEMS. AS I'VE WRITTEN ABOUT PREVIOUSLY, WHEN I HAD BUILT UP A FAIR NUMBER OF NEAT PERIOD TOYS, ALL REMINDING ME OF MY PLEASANT CHILDHOOD, (DESPITE A LOT OF RECURRING ILLNESS), INCLUDING A LARGE SELECTION OF ORIGINAL MATCHBOX, CORGI, LESNEY, DINKY TOY, AND HOT WHEELS CARS AND TRUCKS, PLUS A MUNRO HOCKEY GAME WITH THE FIRST EXPANSION TEAMS, MY MOTHER ONLY WAITED LONG ENOUGH FOR ME TO DISAPPEAR DOWN THE ROAD, ON MY WAY TO UNIVERSITY, THAT SEPTEMBER DAY OF 1974, BEFORE SHE GAVE ALL MY STUFF AWAY. HER CLAIM WAS THAT I HAD FOUND GIRLS, CONTINUING EDUCATION AFAR, AND WOULD NO LONGER NEED REMNANTS OF CHILDHOOD. WHEN I CAME BACK HOME AT THE END OF SEPTEMBER, MY ROOM HAD A STRANGE HOLLOWNESS TO IT, WHEN I OPENED THE DOOR LATE THAT FIRST NIGHT. SHE HAD EVEN GIVEN AWAY TWO PRESS BACK CHAIRS I HAD BEEN USING FOR MY HOCKEY GAME. I KNEW SOMETHING WAS WRONG, WHEN I THREW MY COAT DOWN, AND IT SOUNDED AS IF IT HAD HIT THE FLOOR. EVEN IN THE DARKNESS OF THE ROOM, IT DIDN'T SOUND RIGHT. WHEN I TURNED THE LIGHT ON, I THOUGHT THERE HAD BEEN A ROBBERY. NINETY PERCENT OF THE GOOD STUFF WAS GONE. SHE DIDN'T TAKE POSTERS OFF THE WALL, BUT THEY WERE ABOUT THE ONLY ITEMS THAT HADN'T BEEN DESPATCHED TO THE NEEDY KIDS OF THE NEIGHBORHOOD. I WAS GLAD FOR THEM, BUT FEELING A LITTLE SORRY FOR MYSELF.
TODAY, GOSH, THOSE CHILDHOOD LEFTOVERS, WOULD HAVE BEEN WORTH A FORTUNE. I WAS A TOY CAR HOARDER, AND IF YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THESE VINTAGE PIECES COST TODAY, WELL, LET'S JUST SAY MY MOTHER GAVE AWAY A LOT OF MY INVESTMENTS. I NEVER REALLY UNDERSTOOD WHY SHE DID IT, BUT I DID APPRECIATE THAT THE YOUNG LADS WHO GOT THE TREASURE CHEST, WERE DESERVING; BEING FORCED TO LIVE WITH THEIR GRANDMOTHER, ON A FIXED INCOME, AFTER BEING REMOVED FROM THE FAMILY HOME. I JUST WOULD HAVE LIKED THE OPPORTUNITY TO CULL THE PIECES MYSELF, VERSUS MY MOTHER RULING THAT EVERYTHING WAS EXPENDABLE.
SPOILING THE BOYS, AND I KNOW WHY!
I'm pretty sure I carried a wee bit of resentment, about that unceremonial toy dispersal, at the hand of my mother, showing up when our boys were young. Although I couldn't come up with a lot of money to replace what I had once possessed, Suzanne and I, as up and coming antique and collectable dealers, found that we could satisfy our young lads, if we let them shop alongside us. Then we wouldn't have to listen to the whining about purchases they wanted to make from a various sale venues. How we did this, was when they were old enough to participate as buyers, on our antique round-abouts, we'd give them a small allowance, to make purchases of toys they found at thrift shops, flea markets, church sales, yard sales, or at auctions. This was the beginning of their business interest in vintage everything. They felt part of the family business, which started as Birch Hollow Antiques in 1986. It turned out to be a bonus in so many ways, because they learned how to budget money for what they wanted most. Both Andrew and Robert were cheap, let me tell you, but they knew a bargain early-on in their buying career; and they knew how to barter. I remember a vendor at a flea market, where we also had a booth to sell old books, coming to me, to compliment Suzanne and I, on the way we had brought-up Andrew. I wasn't sure what she meant, but as she explained the transaction, of a few minutes earlier, it seems he very politely, began to haggle for, of all things, an "Apple" record, paper sleeve, for a 45. He only wanted the record sleeve, not the 45 inside. So he wangled a deal, to get the cover, which he needed for a Beatles record, missing its sleeve at home. I think they agreed that the sleeve on its own, was worth fifty cents. She gave him the record as a bonus. She was impressed by his courteous behaviour, and good manners. A parent likes to hear this stuff. My youth, not so much. I was often on the other end of a town constable's arm, as he brought me home by the coat collar, for a little chat about pranks gone too far.
I often went overboard, trying to make up for the fact, we had been broke in the early years of their lives, and they had to get by with a lot less than other neighborhood kids. So when we started earning a little bit more money, and the antique trade picked up some steam, it was a frequent occurrence that an estate or farm auction, would contain some vintage toys as part of the inventory set to be sold to the highest bidder. On one occasion, we attended an auction for the family of Kent Yearley, at the former Lone Pine Garage, in Falkenburg, (just north of the urban area of Bracebridge). Kent built model airplanes, and these were wooden, with paper and cloth covered wings, that could be equipped with engines. There had to be forty planes up for auction. At the time we were driving a Ford Festiva. It was slightly bigger than a Matchbox toy car. I purchased all forty planes. Did I mention, that some of the planes were about as big as our car. The boys were ecstatic, and Ted was in big trouble with his life partner, their mother. It took four trips to bring home the planes. It might not seem like a great distance, between north Bracebridge and Gravenhurst, but it cost a lot of time and gas, to fulfill my obligation to get them home from the sale. I made my last trip as the gavel came down the last time that afternoon. I was exhausted. We bought these for the boys as investments, and when they got tired of playing with them, they would take a select number to antique and collectable shows, where we had booths, including the Antique Boat Show here in Gravenhurst. In two years, they had sold all but one plane, which we still have in our recreation room. The money raised, went back into their pursuit of more vintage toys, and on to old records and musical instruments. Many different kinds before they got turned onto guitars.
The most memorable occasion, of being collector / dealers, was when we stopped in to a Midland second hand shop, on one visit we took to see Ste. Marie Among The Hurons (our favorite museum in Ontario). Low and behold, the shop was having a seventy-five percent off sale, on vintage rubber and plastic dolls, from the 1960's and 1970's. It might have been okay for the boys, if there had been ten dolls. We probably could have snuck twenty into the vehicle, for the return trip to Gravenhurst, and lived with the complaining. An ice cream treat and some licorice could have settled the troops for the drive home. Suzanne had found more than fifty fairly large dolls, in various states of dress and undress, and we didn't have a van at our disposal. Yup, it was the Festiva. Both boys looked like they were in the closet scene of the movie "E.T." Two human faces amongst fifty rubber and plastic dolls. Didn't have a camera phone that day, or any other kind of camera, but by golly, you don't forget what something like that looks like. I don't have any idea what we would have given a police constable, as an excuse for excessive cargo, if we had been stopped that afternoon for a routine traffic check. I'm sure, looking into the car, the officer might have thought it was one of those fraternity-things, about trying to jam as many pledges into a car as possible, to set a new record. The boys were in do danger, and were adequately seat-belted in the back. As for self esteem, well I can't attest to this. If their friends had seen them in this compromising arrangement, they would have had a hard time living it down for sure. They don't like to talk about this today, as it seems to them evidence, their parents, like my own, were a little left of center. A couple who flew out of the "Cuckoo's Nest."
Even today, they do the same thing, as when they were young lads. They chase after a guitar or drum set, play with it for a period of time, and then when another instrument catches their eye, they put the other instruments up for sale. It's how they've operated from those early days of a tiny allowance, and it has meant that more than ninety percent of the investments they've made in toys, (from hot wheels, and planes, to Gibson and Martin guitars), have turned a profit for them. They trade-up as a rule, and it has kept business exciting, because there are a lot of neat toys out there, for big kids too. Just like me today, playing over and over, the nostalgic music box tune, on this wonderful little Fisher-Price "Learning Clock," which fascinates me, but I'm not sure why. I do like having these toys around the house, because they make me feel young at heart; and I've even kept Andrew's "Busy Box," which is a plastic rectangle, with a variety of music making knobs and dials, horns and clickers, that I remember him playing by the hour, when he didn't have many other choices, except digging in the sandbox. It was from the pre-Robert days. It can be said, the arrival of our second son, made the Busy Box, much less interesting. Andrew started early on, twisting his brother's nose, to see if it would make the same musical sounds, as when he twisted the dials of the Busy Box. He did get a response, but not the one he was hoping for. Believe me, Robert has gotten even, in the catch-up of years.
Suzanne has sewing machines as her toys, so I don't care if she laughs at me, for playing with this learning toy, that also plays a happy tune. It's my adventure, you see, to gather up some of the toys I had as a kid, that my mother gave away, and play with them while I still know what play means. The deal is however, that I have to acquire them back, by antique hunting prowess, because I can't pay market value for them now. I'd be penniless, just trying to buy back my Hot Wheels. I was in, with Hot Wheels, from the beginning of their production, and gads, did Mattel ever produce a good product. The only problem I had back then, was that my parents only fulfilled one part of my Christmas wish each year. They would get me three Hot Wheels cars but no track. Every year, they would get me three or four Hot Wheels cars, but wouldn't buy me the race track. Well, folks, the whole Hot Wheels excitement-thing, hinged on the track. These weren't like the Lesney, Dinky Toys, Matchbox, and Corgi cars and trucks, that were propelled by hand, along rugs and roads smoothed in the backyard dirt. You didn't play with Hot Wheels in this fashion, because they were made for speed, not traditional play on coarse surfaces. I didn't have enough money to buy my own track, until one day, I made a trade for some of the orange, interlocking pieces, for a couple of baseball bats, but honestly, I was too old by then to really enjoy the loop-overs and death defying jumps.
I haven't been shopping for these toy assets for very long, but I'll tell you one thing, it's a hobby for the well-to-do, in today's second hand, collectable and antique marketplace. I couldn't afford them, as a kid, unless I got them as gifts at Christmas, and I can't afford them now, unless I find them on-the-cheap, at flea markets and yard sales. Of course, this is the challenge I'm up to, as it has become my profession over the past twenty-five years, in the finely honed enterprise, of the "buy and sell" of old stuff. But, it's a good investment. There always seems to be a market for vintage toys. I suppose a lot of us had parents who turfed our stuff, once we took that life changing step out of the family home toward our new lives. Hey, we weren't finished with them yet! I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I found that my Munro Table-top Hockey Game was gone. We used to have weekend tournaments in my bedroom, over most of a decade. I suffered withdrawal, as if I had just quit a two pack a day cigarette addiction.
Oh well, life goes on. Thanks so much for visiting with me today. Please visit again.
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